The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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RETURN OF THE SWALLOW. |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
RETURN OF THE SWALLOW.
Swift-winged and pleasing harbinger of spring!
Thou from thy winter's voyage art returned,
To skim above the lake, or dip thy wings
In the sequestered river's winding streams.
Instinct has brought thee to the rural cot,
From whence, with new-fledged wings, thou took'st thy flight.
Oh! could I give thee intellect and tongue,
That thou to man might'st tell what mazes wild;
And what eccentric circles thou hast flown
Since thou didst soar in autumn far away!
Cities in rising splendour thou hast seen,
And those where solemn desolation dwells.
Hast thou not peaceful slept the night away,
Perched on the distant pyramid's high point;
Or on some massive column's hoary top,
Beheld great Ætna's dark sulphureous smoke,
Then dipped thy wings upon the orient waves?
Thou from thy winter's voyage art returned,
To skim above the lake, or dip thy wings
In the sequestered river's winding streams.
Instinct has brought thee to the rural cot,
From whence, with new-fledged wings, thou took'st thy flight.
Oh! could I give thee intellect and tongue,
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And what eccentric circles thou hast flown
Since thou didst soar in autumn far away!
Cities in rising splendour thou hast seen,
And those where solemn desolation dwells.
Hast thou not peaceful slept the night away,
Perched on the distant pyramid's high point;
Or on some massive column's hoary top,
Beheld great Ætna's dark sulphureous smoke,
Then dipped thy wings upon the orient waves?
Like thee, could man, with philosophic eye,
Survey mankind in every varying clime,
How would his mind expand! his spacious soul,
Released from bigotry and party zeal,
Would grasp the human race in ev'ry form,—
Denominations, sects, and creeds, would sink,
His mind o'erpowered with the thought that He
Who formed the universe, regards them all!
Survey mankind in every varying clime,
How would his mind expand! his spacious soul,
Released from bigotry and party zeal,
Would grasp the human race in ev'ry form,—
Denominations, sects, and creeds, would sink,
His mind o'erpowered with the thought that He
Who formed the universe, regards them all!
Upon this little wave-encircled isle,
What scenes diversified might he behold!
Here men of commerce, seeking after gain,
To the emporium throng, as ants haste home
When frowns the sky, and distant thunders roll;
And there their youthful inexperienced sons,
In wide extremes of pleasure, mirth, and joy,
Heed not the cares their fathers' bosoms feel,
But carelessly carouse the night away,
Regardless of the wealth by prudence gained.
What scenes diversified might he behold!
Here men of commerce, seeking after gain,
To the emporium throng, as ants haste home
When frowns the sky, and distant thunders roll;
And there their youthful inexperienced sons,
In wide extremes of pleasure, mirth, and joy,
Heed not the cares their fathers' bosoms feel,
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Regardless of the wealth by prudence gained.
Some crowd the theatres, by pleasure led;—
But where's the theatre like Nature's own?
Where sects of various creeds, like summer flies,
Meet and re-meet, as though their hopes were placed
As widely opposite as the extremes
Of inconceivable unbounded space.
Then what is man? think, O ye vain, ye proud!
What his achievements, glory, wealth, or fame?
Where can the history reach of all his deeds?
Scarce o'er the little molehill of this earth.
And what the various sects—Jews, Pagans, Turks,
With those who to the mighty Spirit bow,
The wand'ring Arabs, or the sable hordes
Who scorched dwell in Afric's torrid vales,—
Their idol gods, their temples, or their mosques,
And even Christians, with their numerous sects,
Divided, parted, and anatomised,
Till almost ev'ry man's a different creed?—
Astonished, he who thinks must make them one,
And breathe a fervent pray'r,—Heav'n bless the whole!
But where's the theatre like Nature's own?
Where sects of various creeds, like summer flies,
Meet and re-meet, as though their hopes were placed
As widely opposite as the extremes
Of inconceivable unbounded space.
Then what is man? think, O ye vain, ye proud!
What his achievements, glory, wealth, or fame?
Where can the history reach of all his deeds?
Scarce o'er the little molehill of this earth.
And what the various sects—Jews, Pagans, Turks,
With those who to the mighty Spirit bow,
The wand'ring Arabs, or the sable hordes
Who scorched dwell in Afric's torrid vales,—
Their idol gods, their temples, or their mosques,
And even Christians, with their numerous sects,
Divided, parted, and anatomised,
Till almost ev'ry man's a different creed?—
Astonished, he who thinks must make them one,
And breathe a fervent pray'r,—Heav'n bless the whole!
All works of man, performed with greatest art,
Shall change, shall waste, and into ruin turn.
Where are the pristine altars and the groves;
The first rude temples, and the sacred rocks;
The hieroglyphics, and the works of priests,
Written in characters to us unknown?
Where are the walls of Babylon? or where
The glorious splendour of the Trojan courts;
Egypt's geometry, and Grecian lore,—
The thrones of emperors; the crowns of kings;
The weapons of the warriors of old;
The martial airs which cheered the Roman hosts;
The wreaths with which the conquerors were crowned?
All lost,—and dark oblivion wraps the whole!
Shall change, shall waste, and into ruin turn.
Where are the pristine altars and the groves;
The first rude temples, and the sacred rocks;
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Written in characters to us unknown?
Where are the walls of Babylon? or where
The glorious splendour of the Trojan courts;
Egypt's geometry, and Grecian lore,—
The thrones of emperors; the crowns of kings;
The weapons of the warriors of old;
The martial airs which cheered the Roman hosts;
The wreaths with which the conquerors were crowned?
All lost,—and dark oblivion wraps the whole!
The mighty Chinese empire yet may fall
Like those of Greece, of Egypt, and of Rome.
Canton, with all its millions, may decay,
And golden Hindoostan may yet arise,
Turn from its gods,—embrace the Christian creed.
Like those of Greece, of Egypt, and of Rome.
Canton, with all its millions, may decay,
And golden Hindoostan may yet arise,
Turn from its gods,—embrace the Christian creed.
Ye narrow-minded men, whose souls are bound,
Give wings to thought, and let your fancy soar!
See the tossed ocean leaping at the rocks,
To tear them from their stations, and engulf
The pond'rous masses in its foaming jaws!
Behold the vessels wrecked,—the wretched crews,
Pale with dread horrors, leave their grasp and sink,
Their last faint shrieks all lost in ocean's roar!
These are your fellow-mortals, and their state,
Man with his reason, reading, wit, and all,
May guess, but nought of certainty is there.
Give wings to thought, and let your fancy soar!
See the tossed ocean leaping at the rocks,
To tear them from their stations, and engulf
The pond'rous masses in its foaming jaws!
Behold the vessels wrecked,—the wretched crews,
Pale with dread horrors, leave their grasp and sink,
Their last faint shrieks all lost in ocean's roar!
These are your fellow-mortals, and their state,
Man with his reason, reading, wit, and all,
May guess, but nought of certainty is there.
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Next view the field of war,—behold the fray
On that small ant-hill, see the curling smoke,
And hear the roar which twice three leagues can drown.
Stand at a distance, and the armies fade.
Let the volcano burst, the hosts are lost,—
Smoke, lava, ashes would entomb the whole!
Or did the earthquake open its wide jaws,
Victor and vanquished, armour, banners, all
Would sink,—and war be silent as the grave!
On that small ant-hill, see the curling smoke,
And hear the roar which twice three leagues can drown.
Stand at a distance, and the armies fade.
Let the volcano burst, the hosts are lost,—
Smoke, lava, ashes would entomb the whole!
Or did the earthquake open its wide jaws,
Victor and vanquished, armour, banners, all
Would sink,—and war be silent as the grave!
Search for great Hannibal or Cæsar now;
Where shines their grandeur? what can we behold
But some few letters which record their names?
Sage and philosopher, the ignorant and learned;
The tyrant hated, and the prince beloved;
The statesman, patriot, poet, and Mogul;
The Indian chiefs, the despicable Deys;
Those who with microscopes behold the mite,
And they who calculate the comet's course,
Measure the distances of heavenly orbs,
Number their satellites, and think they view
Islands and seas stretched o'er the distant spheres;—
Kings, priests, and paupers—live, and then expire!
Where shines their grandeur? what can we behold
But some few letters which record their names?
Sage and philosopher, the ignorant and learned;
The tyrant hated, and the prince beloved;
The statesman, patriot, poet, and Mogul;
The Indian chiefs, the despicable Deys;
Those who with microscopes behold the mite,
And they who calculate the comet's course,
Measure the distances of heavenly orbs,
Number their satellites, and think they view
Islands and seas stretched o'er the distant spheres;—
Kings, priests, and paupers—live, and then expire!
Had poets but thy pinions, they would soar
To taste the far-famed streams of Helicon;
Artists and antiquarians, winged like thee,
Would fly to view the works of Grecian art,
Then soar to Atlas, or the pointed Alps,
And rest where mortal footsteps ne'er were seen:
Myriads would visit then the sacred place
Where heav'n's Eternal Majesty expired.
But man, proud man, with all his vaunted skill,
Must travel slowly o'er this atom globe,—
Though wonderful his new invented things,
His art still leaves him destitute of wings.
To taste the far-famed streams of Helicon;
Artists and antiquarians, winged like thee,
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Then soar to Atlas, or the pointed Alps,
And rest where mortal footsteps ne'er were seen:
Myriads would visit then the sacred place
Where heav'n's Eternal Majesty expired.
But man, proud man, with all his vaunted skill,
Must travel slowly o'er this atom globe,—
Though wonderful his new invented things,
His art still leaves him destitute of wings.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |